


Project: Recall

by BethCyra, Multikicker



Series: Project: Recall [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: And Emily is out for blood., Because love isn't restricted to good people., Blood Feud, Except things don't go as she plans, F/F, Lena died in the Slipstream Incident, Lenily but unfortunately it's all in the past, Nanobiotic enchancements, Pharmercy, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Recall & Aegis, Talon Em, This is not a story about good people., To post-fall, We can empathise with bad people, Widow and her manipulations, but then again, gingerspider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 19:23:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12754605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BethCyra/pseuds/BethCyra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multikicker/pseuds/Multikicker
Summary: Emily could only listen as the woman she loved vanished from reality along with the rest of the Slipstream Prototype. Alone in her grief, she turns to Talon to help her enact her revenge.As Overwatch took Lena from her, so will she take away what they hold dear.....





	1. Genesis

**Author's Note:**

> This is the culmination of something I've worked on with a dear friend for around a month and a half, and now finally we can share it with all of you.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this Emily and her world as much as we enjoyed bringing them to life, because she deserves better than Blizzard gives her in the actual lore, or rather lack of actual lore.

The glass fractured under the force of the blow as Emily drove her fist into the cabinet. The glittering shards fragmented and dug into her hand, sending rivulets of blood down her arm. She sunk to the floor, sobbing, lying there among the blood and shattered glass as the sun set outside. Shuddering, in spasms of grief, she cast her thoughts back to how it all went wrong.

It seemed a lifetime ago. It was supposed to be nothing more than a test flight, a maiden voyage, Lena had said. She was going to take the Slipstream Prototype on its inaugural first flight, and then they'd celebrate together. She had been so happy. Lena, her love, her everything, was going to help save the world. Emily had been so proud. She'd kissed Lena, hugged her and wished her luck, and stood back as she had climbed the ladder into the cockpit, done the preflight check, and taken off. That was when things had begun to fall apart. Lena's plane began to fail, the teleportation matrix disassembling in midair. She had heard Lena's last words come over the radio in horror, screaming in anguish as they devolved into radio static. “Em….. _*crackle*_ ....I won't be making it back, love…..* _crackle*..._ I'm so, so sor-”

Emily had stormed from the compound, brushing aside any attempts at condolences. She didn't want their apologies. She wanted her wife back. But after weeks of searching, Overwatch had announced that they would end their search. Lena was dead, they said, and gave her some empty words and a pittance sum of money as if they expected it to cure her wounds.

And as Emily lay there, sobbing, in her field of shattered glass, a revelation struck her. “This is their fault.” She muttered, staggering to her feet. “They sent her to die.” She stumbled towards the bathroom, hand bleeding. “They killed her. They stole Lena from me!” She looked into the mirror, her ragged reflection staring back. Slowly, she raised her hand and curled it into another fist. “I will make them pay, Lena.” She murmured. “I will make them bleed.” She punched the mirror with a feral grin, shattering it and injuring her hand more, but she didn't care. She would be their nightmare. She would undermine Overwatch whenever she could, and she would make them pay.

“Bravo, _cheríe._ ” Said a silky voice from behind her. “Such ferocity. I am impressed.” Emily turned, scowling, to see the intruder, and her retort caught in her mouth. The speaker was a pale woman with brilliant blue hair and piercing golden eyes, leaning nonchalantly next to the windowsill, and Emily was momentarily speechless, just standing there with eyes red from crying and holding her bleeding hand gently. “Who are you?” She growled finally, sinking back into her defensive posture. “My name is Widowmaker.” The woman replied. “I represent a group known as Talon, and am here on their behalf. Tell me,” ‘Widowmaker’ continued softly, “would you like revenge on Overwatch?”


	2. Montage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Such deals we make, that drag us deeper into damnation. But the definition of damnation is different for every person.
> 
> In which Emily strikes her devil's bargain, and Widowmaker begins to weave her webs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “If we say that we have no sin,  
> We deceive ourselves, and there's no truth in us.   
> Why then belike we must sin,  
> And so consequently die.  
> Ay, we must die an everlasting death.”  
> \- Christopher Marlowe, Dr. Faustus

Emily’s vision blurred as her gurney was wheeled underneath gleaming, white lights. She squinted at the glare as the medical orderlies transferred her to another surface, to which they bound her limbs. “Miss…..?” A questioning voice came floating over to her. “Oxton.” She croaked. “Emily…..Oxton.” In her peripherals, she saw tanks of strange liquids being maneuvered into symmetry with other, more esoteric instruments. Gauges flicked between measurements and diodes, while all the while the light glinted off of the surgical implements that lay at the ready. Waiting for her. The voice came again, and coincided with a patchy shadow looming over her. “Miss Oxton. We need to put you under to begin the procedure. Once begun, it will take days, maybe even weeks to complete. We need your verbal confirmation to begin.” Emily simply lay there, unafraid. Whatever they had to do to improve her was better than a life of helplessness and misery. “Do it,” She said. The dark spot wavered, possibly indicative of a nod, and withdrew. Once again she was staring up at the sterile brilliance of the lights overhead, waiting. Then she felt a prick in her upper left arm as an IV was applied, and slowly her eyelids grew heavier and heavier until she sank into unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

Widowmaker stared up at the form of the red-haired woman currently floating in the tank in front of her, reaching out a hand to press against the glass. “Such anger….” She breathed, a small smile flitting to her face. “Such power you have, Emily.” She had been privy to all the procedures, she knew what they had done to the woman before her, the improvements they had made. Talon’s greatest scientific minds had worked on the Test Subject Enhancement Program for years, and it had already rendered many successes, herself included. Now Emily too would be counted among the shining products of their research. They had surgically enhanced her bone structure and synthetically altered her genetic makeup, allowing for greater physical strength, speed, and resilience than was humanly possible. Now, the bath of liquids she was suspended in developed those cells, growing them to the required specifications. They had made the British woman into a goddess of war, a super soldier to surpass America’s SEP Program.

_ I will own you, _ she thought, stepping closer to the tank.  _ You will be my weapon, against Overwatch. Through you, I will secure my ultimate victory. _ Emily drifted peacefully in the biotic cocktail, face serene. It didn’t suit her, Widow decided. Serenity was unbecoming of Emily. She looked so much more striking when she was angry, much more beautiful.  _ Careful, _ she chided.  _ Do not get attached. She is only a weapon. Use her until she cannot be used any more, and then find a new one.  _ Ah, but the ways she could use her…...never mind that now. She would guide her, and gain her trust, before beginning to weave her web. After all, she was a spider. And spiders were nothing if not patient.   
  


 

* * *

Emily drove her fist through the metal carapace of the combat robot with a grunt, twisting its internal circuitry before ripping out its core in a shower of sparks. A second drone swung from behind, but she dropped down and spun, tearing its leg off and then driving the appendage into its steel skull. A hovering training robot dropped down from above her and opened up with automatic weaponry, but she had already dashed away. Vaulting behind cover, she waited until she heard the machine stop firing, then sprung out, kicking off the top of the barrier and arcing over the flying contraption before landing on it and crushing into nothing so much as a scrap metal pancake on the ground.

Alarm klaxons wailed above her, indicating a change in the scenario.  _ Mixing things up, are we? _ Above her, the lights began to flicker out, and fog filled the room. Lines of light scythed through the fog, sending brief flashes which lit up the darkness. Laser sights, and not for her benefit. She could see perfectly well in this low level of light, thanks to Talon’s modifications, which would surely serve her well on the battlefield. No, these were to assist whatever had been deployed as her next challenge. Stealthily, she crept through the mock cityscape, readying herself. A dark figure moved past her, unaware of her presence, and like lightning, she pounced. Latching onto the shape from behind, she simultaneously prevented it from crying out and snapped its neck in one fluid motion, catching the body as it fell to prevent the sound of it impacting the ground.  _ More combat robots? They’re underestimating me….. _ She reached down and picked up the fallen combat robot’s rifle, racking the bolt. It made a pleasant enough sound, but ending her enemies from a distance felt….impersonal.

No, she wanted to do it with her own two hands. She wanted to crush the life out of Angela Ziegler as she squirmed in a desperate attempt to escape. She wanted to see the light leave the angelic doctor’s eyes, wanted to toss aside her worthless corpse like a rag doll, and do the same for every Overwatch agent. They were all complicit. They had taken Lena from her, and she would take everything from them.

 

Friends, family, life. Everything.

 

She drew a long knife from the robot’s sheath and inspected it, enjoying the way the serrated blade felt in her hand.

 

This would do.

 

* * *

 

Widowmaker watched through her recon goggles as Emily hunted down the troops that had been sent to engage her as part of her final test. They had elected to use live forces for this last challenge, as both as a way to test Emily’s conviction and to send a message to any squads that happened to be on base at the moment: fail, and they would face the wrath of the red devil. She watched in interest as Emily slit the throat of the last combatant and saw her pause and eye the blood coating the floor, and then shrug. So she had what it took to kill. That was good. That was what Widow really  _ needed _ in a partner. They had to be able to kill as well as she could. She had no time to pick up slack for an incompetent, as many had found out the hard way. It seemed she would not have that problem this time. A point in Emily’s favour. The lights in the arena came back on, and there in the centre of the labyrinth of faux streets stood Emily, bloody knife in hand, and with bodies littering the floor around her. Smiling, Widowmaker made her way down to the arena floor, humming to herself as she went. Time to weave.

It was only when she was level with the British woman, and face-to-face, that she was given pause. Emily brushed her hair out of her eyes with a gloved hand, and Widow saw that every inch of her shone with sweat, from her face, to her torso, clad in a black-and-red sports bra, and all the way down to her combat booted feet.  _ Merde…. _ She took a deep breath. Weave. Remain unattached. “Very good,  _ cheríe, _ ” She purred, sauntering over to where Emily stood. “You were fabulous. A force of nature.” Emily smiled back at her radiantly, and for a moment Widow considered abandoning her manipulations, but dismissed the thought. Emily  _ would _ be hers, hers to own, hers to command. Her own weapon. “Thank you,” Emily replied, tossing the combat knife aside to where the bodies of those she had killed lay. “Although it wasn’t very hard.” Widow kept the seductive smile affixed to her face, but inside she was raising an eyebrow.  _ Two squads of crack troops? “Not very hard”?  _ She leaned in closer, and gasped Emily’s wrist in her pale hand. “Regardless,” she whispered softly, “I think you deserve a reward.” And, quick as a flash, she pulled Emily in and began to kiss her, enjoying the way the redhead surrendered to it, surrendered to her. It was always so much better to have a willing servant. Eyes still open somewhat, she held the other woman there for some time, lips locked, watching, making sure, until finally she drew back from the embrace, and was rewarded with seeing Emily’s fingers flicker feebly, as though trying to pull her back, to keep her from leaving.

Widow turned and walked away, every step and sway of her hips perfectly positioned to drag the British woman deeper into her webs.

 

* * *

  
  


Emily’s eyes widened in shock as Widowmaker pulled her in and began to kiss her, until she realised what was happening and began to return the kiss, fervently. God, Widow smelled so good…...and her voice. Like an angel, every time the French assassin spoke, it drove her a bit more insane. “I think you deserve a reward,” came Widow’s whisper, and all she could do was let herself be overtaken in the cold embrace. It was all she  _ wanted _ . Just to stay there, like that, in Widowmaker’s arms, being praised. Suddenly she felt Widow withdraw, and for a moment she shuddered and tried to hang on. But then she opened her eyes, and was only able to stare up into the own sniper’s golden irises before Widow turned with a smirk and and began to walk away. Emily watched her go, gaze lingering on that gods-damned gorgeous spider tattoo on Widow’s back. And somehow, she knew that from that moment on she’d do anything for Widowmaker.

 

* * *

 

Months passed, and Widow drew her webs tighter and tighter around the woman she was already, with said woman’s vigorous permission, calling her own. Calculated comments, stolen kisses in the halls of the Talon base, and nights spent in each other’s quarters, not all of them with sleep involved, until for all intents and purposes, they may as well have been lovers. And then came the night that changed everything.

Widow had been expecting to meet Emily at her quarters per usual, but, as she wasn’t waiting outside, she went to Emily’s quarters instead. As she approached, however, it became obvious that something was wrong. Choked sobs and the smell of alcohol permeated the air outside the room, and crushed glass from bottles littered the hall outside. Slowly, Widow raised her fist to the door and knocked lightly. “Emily?  _ Cheríe? _ ” She asked softly, leaning against the door to listen. There was no cessation of the sobs. “ _ Cheríe,  _ I’m coming in.” She said, and tapped her ID card against the locking mechanism. The hatch slid open, and she made her way into the darkened room.

Objects were strewn chaotically across the floor, smashed and broken as though a whirlwind had come through. A lightbulb flickered sporadically in the adjacent bathroom, fizzled, and went out. Widow flicked her recon goggles down over her eyes and activated them, giving her a clear view of the chamber and the sheer amount of wreckage permeating it.

Emily lay curled up on the couch crying, wrapped in so many blankets that her eyes were barely visible. On the table across from her was a battered photo album that lay open, but the pages were obscured by other papers that covered the images within. Widow made her way over to where Emily lay and sat down next to her on the couch, extending an arm out to brush back some of the blankets and run her fingers through her red hair. “What’s wrong,  _ cheríe? _ ” She asked, leaning in closer to put her arm around the distressed woman. Emily simply let out another wrenching sob and extended out her hands. Something small was cupped in them, and Widow’s confusion was abated as she realised what it was. In Emily’s hands, glistening with the patina of tears covering it, was a small gold wedding band, engraved with the words ‘My Hero’. “You miss her.” Widow said, still running her hand gently through the other woman’s red hair. It wasn’t a question. It was fairly plain to see. Emily sniffled and nodded, looking up at her with reddened eyes. “A….a y-year ag-g-o…..tod-d-d-ay….” Emily managed to say between deep breaths, sitting up slightly. “I...I w-wanted to wait until….until she g-got b…” A fresh gasp, and then she continued. “Until she got back. It was sup-p-posed to b-be a surprise…...My gift to m-my h-hero….b-but she never came back…” Widow pulled her closer and nodded in what she endeavoured to make a sad way. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t  _ do _ feelings, that was sort of the point.

“I think….” Widow began, snatching words as they appeared out of thin air, “I think…..Lena would not want you to be sad,  _ cheríe….. _ ” Emily looked up at her with an expression that said that she really  _ needed  _ this, and so she carried on. “If she really loved you as much as you say, she would want you to be happy. Or if not happy, at least not sad. She is watching over you now, somewhere, I know it. So stand. Be strong.” The weight of the woman leaning on her shoulder should have irritated her, but it didn’t. Instead it gave some purpose to her words. “Fight. Fight the people that took her from you, take your revenge. Take action.” She disengaged her recon goggles and looked down into Emily’s eyes. Something stirred there, a dull glow that bled the green from them and turned the irises crimson, as if the proverbial fire had been lit inside her, and something in turn stirred inside Widow. She felt…..something. It was hard to quantify, but she felt a pang of something akin to sympathy, and an accompanying coal of anger kindled within her. She wanted to find the people who had done this to Emily, who had taken her love away from her, and she wanted to make them hurt-.

 

_ No.  _

_ Don’t get attached. _

_ Weave. _

_ And nothing more. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you really blame Emily for choices made in a state of anguish?  
> Don't answer that.
> 
> In any case, we hope that you enjoyed this chapter, and have time to reflect before hitting that 'Next Chapter' button.
> 
> For those bingeing this like a Netflix series, we salute thee.  
> -Multi


	3. Rules of Engagement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The most romantic way to propose to your unfeeling assassin girlfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're not good people, no. But why shouldn't they be together?

Emily stood up from the corpse of the Overwatch agent, cleaning the blood off of her knife with a rag. With practised ease, she slid it back into its sheath, where it hung at her side. Another one dead. Another step closer to watching them all burn. She turned to see Widowmaker watching her with a smile, and she went over to the other assassin, smirking. "Like what you see, Love?"

The blue-skinned woman did not respond at first, but grabbed her hand and pulled her into a slow waltz around the deserted side road.

  
At length, Widow pulled her into a tight embrace, wrapping her cold arms around Emily as they kissed. Widow pulled back slightly and whispered in her ear, sending happy shudders up her spine. "Can you see it, _cheríe_ ? Someday soon we'll dance on the ashes of their bodies, you and I. Then, we will have everything we want. Everything we need." Emily smiled at this, and whispered back. "That'll be some fantastic sex, won't it?" Her grin widened at the spider's soft laugh. "I imagine so, _oui_." Spinning out of the hug, Emily reached into a pouch on her belt, fingers brushing the small box inside it. She'd wanted to do this for so long, but at the same time it terrified her. Widow was her everything, and she wanted to show her exactly how she felt. Scraping together every ounce of courage she had, Emily got down on one knee and pulled out the box, opening it.

  
Inside was a beautiful ring, silver band set with four small rubies on either side of a jet spider. Emily stared up at Widow, whose eyes had widened slightly in shock, and prepared to make her case.   
"I'm not asking for anything now," she began hesitantly, "but I can't keep this to myself any longer. When this is all said and done, and when we've had our revenge......Arachne, love.....will you marry me?"   
There was a long pause, until Widowmaker smiled a wide, genuine smile. " _Cheríe_ , it would make me the happiest woman in the world." She reached down and closed the box in Emily's hands. "Until that day, keep this safe for us." Emily nodded and stood up, stowing the box again. She reached forward uncertainly, hand halfway out, and then put it around her now-fiancée's shoulder happily.

  
Emily reactivated her visor, red hard-light lenses obscuring her eyes as she hugged Widowmaker. "We've got a long way to go..." She whispered, staring at the dead Overwatch agents in the road. "But it's all worth it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's romance in the air, and definitely not the stink of blood. Bit of a short one, I know, but it gets the point across well.
> 
> We very much hope that you enjoyed, and hope that the next chapter is equally as enjoyable.
> 
> 'Til next time, then.  
> \- Multi


	4. Aegis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > Activate the Aegis Protocol.  
> > Authorisation Code: T-H-X-1-1-3-8  
> > Authoriser: S0mbr4
> 
> She needs you, Emily.  
> Put her first this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We make sacrifices for the people we love.  
> That's what love is.  
> Sacrifice.

The ground cracked and buckled as Emily drove her gauntleted fist straight into the space where, moments ago, that accursed cyborg ninja had stood. Whirling, she sidestepped an oncoming throwing star, reaching out to snatch it from midair. Enjoying the look of shock on the ninja’s face, she tossed it to the ground, where it landed with a disappointing metallic clatter.

Quick as lightning, she dashed forward again, throwing another aura-enveloped punch at her adversary. With a hollow ringing, Genji blocked her blow on the edge of his sword, and then leaped backwards. She watched as he drew his sword, and braced herself for the inevitable. The sword began to glow, and she dropped into a defensive stance. “Ryujin no ken wo kurae!” At Genji’s shout, a massive green dragon erupted from the blade, twisting its way through the air towards her. With a feral grin, Emily charged.

She ran headlong at the dragon, only bothering to dodge at the last moment. Lashing out with a kick, she knocked Genji's sword from his hand, taking an immense pleasure in how the dragon evaporated into insubstantial green mist. She struck him in the chest, slamming his metallic form into the nearest wall.

Advancing, she drew her knife from its sheath and flipped it into a reversed grip, letting the light catch on the name engraved on the blade. Etched into the metal in ornate letters was the reason she had begun this crusade. Marking the steel was the word ‘Lena.’ Emily stared down at her opponent, more machine than man, and raised the knife. This was another step towards her revenge, another cog stripped from the infernal machine that had taken Lena from her. With a smile, she buried the knife in Genji's chest up to the hilt, reveling in his pain. They’d all suffer as Lena had suffered, they'd all die as her first love had died. Removing the blade from the cyborg’s corpse, she set off to find more prey. The hunt was by no means finished.

 

* * *

 

Widowmaker tracked her lover’s progress through the sight of the Widow’s Kiss, smile fading fast as she watched Emily grow more and more distant in her search for more targets. Lowering the rifle, she hissed into the comms channel. “ _ Cheríe, _ stop. We have them on the run. You're going to get yourself killed.” Emily's voice, when she heard it, was rage-filled and vehement. “Just one more, love. I want one more dead.” The channel began to crackle. “You cannot punish them further if you are not alive to do so,  _ cheríe. _ ” There was no response. “Emily.  _ Cheríe? Merde……” _ She cut the link and opened a channel to Sombra. On the other end, the hacker was characteristically cheerful. “Heeeey,  _ Araña! Que pasa, hermana? _ ” Widow cut her off quickly, not even bothering to hide the growing desperation in her voice. “Sombra, please. The program I asked you to build into the Recall armour. Activate it, please……” Sombra was silent for a moment. “You really love her, don't you?” The question was so quiet, and took Widow by surprise. “ _.......Oui. _ I do.” She said, finally stating and accepting what she had already known all along. She had wrapped Emily tightly in her webs, drawn them tight and molded her into the perfect partner, but Widow herself had been caught in her own web. She'd woven herself into every fibre of Emily's being, but in turn Emily had been woven into hers. They were a part of each other now, and Widow knew that she was just as in love with Emily as Emily was with her. They were going to be married after this was over, after all.

“-o it.” Sombra's voice brought her back to reality, dragging her back out of her thoughts. “ _Quoi?_ _Pardon,_ Sombra, I was lost in thought.” Sombra gave a dramatic sigh. “ _I said_ , you don't have to beg me to do it, _araña_. She's my friend too, and I'd hate to see her dead.” Widow smiled weakly. “ _Merci,_ Sombra.” She could almost picture her friend waving away the thanks through the comm. “ _De nada, de nada_. You've saved my ass plenty of times.” There was an audible beeping in the background of the call, and Widow heard the sound of furious typing on a keyboard, then Sombra spoke again. “Done. It's online. Gotta go, in any case. TTYL, girl!” The link closed, and Widow opened a channel to Emily, whispering into the headset built into the recon visor. “Come back to me, _cheríe….._ ”

 

* * *

 

Emily thrust her knife deep into Symmetra’s artificial arm, damaging the architect’s hardlight engine and disabling the prosthetic entirely. Pinning the arm to the wall, she withdrew the knife and brought it up to the woman's throat. She was about to draw it across the exposed flesh, to cross another name off of her list, when a shiver went up her spine. The Talon emblem on her armour’s chestplate began to glow a soothing purple, and she froze. Over the course of a few seconds, all of her hatred and rage bled away, and she simply was, unburdened by negative emotions. Then, slowly, she was filled with a wondrous feeling, her entire being in a state of intense euphoria. Her comms crackled, and then a voice, so perfect and silken, came over it, and her purpose was shown to her. “Come back to me, _ mon aegis. _ ” So her love commanded, and she would obey. “Of course.” She responded, smiling as the purple light trailed spiderwebs across her form, as her lover's sigil wrapped itself around her and took away her worries. She gave a wide and genuine smile, and slowly began to retract the knife from Symmetra's throat. The other woman's features became twisted in confusion, unsure of why she had been spared, and then froze in shock as Aegis brought her hand down on her collarbone pressure point, knocking her out.

Bending down, Aegis picked up the unconscious Symmetra bridal-style and began to make her way back to her love, as requested. The architect would make a worthy gift to the woman who owned her body and soul, and a fine subject for Talon to operate on. The body did not have to die for the self to vanish, and Aegis knew that loss of self was most definitely a worse fate than simple death. Humming to herself, she made her way down the street.

 

* * *

 

Widowmaker sighed in relief as Emily acquiesced to her wishes, breaking the comms link as she did so. It was all right. They'd both survive. No one would take her love away from her. She activated her recon visor again, letting the shell of it envelop her face and expand her field of vision. Sighting down the scope of the Widow’s Kiss, she tracked the remaining Overwatch agents in the area. Angela “Mercy” Ziegler, hiding behind a barricade some metres away. Reinhardt Wilhelm, far on the right flank and entrenched in a melee stalemate with Akande. Jesse McCree and Gabriel Reyes, wading their way through squads of shock troops. There was a clear path for Emily to make it back to her. No obstacles. Nothing in the way of their reunion. She smiled to herself as she saw Emily's armoured form approaching, holding what looked like…….well, that was interesting. Widow’s love had brought her a present, in the form of one Sayta Vaswani. Very interesting. She'd reward Emily for that, later. Retracting the recon visor, she grappled down to street level.

 

* * *

 

Aegis set Symmetra down on the curb, standing back as Talon shock troops bound the architect and prepared her for transport. Turning, she smiled as she saw Widowmaker approach, and dashed forward to wrap the blue-skinned woman in a tight embrace. As she pulled Widow close, she ran a hand through her love’s blue hair fondly. Leaning in, she rested her helmeted head on the recon visor, close enough to hear her fiancée’s whisper. “Thank you for coming back to me,  _ amour… _ ..” She dissipated her helm’s hardlight visor and stared down into Widow’s eyes. “I always will, love.” She was about to lean in further, to kiss Widow, to seal their embrace and their love, when a voice from behind made her blood run cold.

 

“Ryuu ga waga teki wo kurae.”

 

Aegis spun, eyes widening as the twin dragons sped towards them. Pushing Widow back, she threw herself in the dragons’ path, crossing her arms in front of her to intercept them. Through the opaque light of the creatures, she saw the rage on Hanzo’s features. She'd taken his brother, and he was out for blood. He wouldn't take Widow from her. She would  **not** allow it. The dragons impacted her guard, and she was wracked with pain. Her armour became chipped and cracked under the intense heat and pressure, but still she stood firm. She was the shield. She would protect the woman she loved. She would not falter. Driving the heels of her combat boots into the pavement, she grimaced, every sinew alight with agony. She could feel her body failing beneath the archer’s wrath, but she would not let him win. She closed her eyes and  _ pushed _ , and then everything went white.

 

* * *

Widowmaker watched Emily fall in horror, pulling herself up off the ground and rushing to her side. Those once-burning eyes were empty, a last happy smile gracing her face. “ _ Non…….. _ ” Widow breathed, cradling her body. “ _ Non, non…... _ please……” Her hands were shaking, her eyes leaking tears. So many emotions, all at once. Hate, pain, anger, sorrow, despair. Her quivering hands became fists, and she picked up the Widow’s Kiss. Scenes flashed through her mind as she engaged the rifle. Kissing Emily in the aftermath of the Null Sector crisis, back when all of this had began. Coming back to the headquarters after assassinating Mondatta to find Emily asleep outside her door in one of those cheesy Christmas sweaters. Staring down at Emily as her love held out a ring and asked for her hand in marriage. Closing the case as she said yes.

She squeezed off three shots in quick succession, all on target. The first caught Hanzo in the gut, sending him stumbling backwards. The second shattered his bow into small pieces, while the third emptied the contents of his head out onto the asphalt. She dropped the gun as he fell, turning back to Emily's body. She hugged her love tight, still shaking, pouring tears onto her shattered armour, as if somehow hoping that like a phoenix they would heal all wounds. She closed the recon visor around her face, hiding from the world, and engaged it, taking in all of her love’s broken form. And then she saw it.

 

Hiding behind a barricade some metres away, was Angela Ziegler.

The doctor that could bring back the dead.

 

Widow laid Emily's body down on the pavement and stood, wiping away her tears. It was time to pay the Angel a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's that they say?  
> Ah, yes.......
> 
> 'Success is measured in blood, yours or your enemy's."
> 
> 'Til next time, then.


	5. "Heroes" Never Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say heroes never die.  
> I suppose that's true.  
> But the definition of the word 'hero' is, like many things, in the eye of the beholder.
> 
> Spiders have many eyes, and this spider has one hero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You will find that many of the truths we cling to greatly depend on our point of view."  
> \- Obi-Wan Kenobi

Angela Ziegler winced as a cold hand dragged her out from behind the barricade where she had been hiding. Slowly she looked up, into the face of her attacker. Widowmaker's normally calm mask was gone, replaced with an expression of pure rage. She shuddered as the assassin pulled her closer roughly by the collar, golden eyes blazing with anger. “I have a job for you, _docteur.”_ Widowmaker hissed.

 

* * *

 

Widowmaker looked down at Emily's body, and then over at Mercy, training the Widow’s Kiss at the angelic doctor. “Resurrect her,” she ordered. “Bring her back.” The doctor was silent for a moment, and Widow saw her gaze harden. “No.” Her eyes narrowed. “ _Non?_ ” She asked, punctuating each of her words with a step towards Mercy. “Perhaps I was not clear. You _will_ revive her. If you refuse, it will not go well for you.” She was standing over her now, and smiled as the doctor shrunk back. “I will tell you exactly how it will go if you refuse. I will tranquilise you, and take you back to Talon Headquarters. They will torture you ceaselessly until your mind fragments into a million small pieces, and you no longer know who you are. And then they will build you up into something else, someone else. And they will send you back into the arms of the woman you love.” She leaned closer, softly whispering the last part into Angela's ear. “And you will kill her. And you will _love every moment of it_.”

She drew back, and was rewarded with the look of horror on Mercy’s face. “So. How much do you care about Fareeha Amari, _docteur_?” There was the slightest pause, and Mercy wiped a tear from her eyes and slumped, defeated. “.......I'll do it. Please. Don't hurt her….”

Widow watched the doctor extend her staff and hold it over Emily's corpse, pale face grim and silent. “Say it.” Widow hissed. “She doesn't deserve it.” the doctor replied. She aimed the Widow’s Kiss at Mercy again and bolted it. “She is my hero. _Say the fucking words._ ” Mercy sighed, and activated the nanotech.

“Heroes never die….

 

* * *

 

The golden light enveloped Emily's prone form and then faded. Her eyes flickered open and she drew a spasming gasp, propping herself up and groaning. Not bothering to make sure Mercy stayed behind, Widow dashed forward and knelt by Emily's side, cradling her love in her arms. “Why? Why would you ever……?” She asked, leaning over so the Brit wouldn't see her tears. Emily gave a wan smile, running her hand through the purple hair. “Because I swore that I'd never watch another woman I cared about die.” She whispered weakly. “Because I'm your shield, until you cast me aside. Because I love you, Arachne.” Widow wiped her face and pulled Emily into a tight embrace, her words for her love and her alone. “Such a sweet, foolish girl…..” Emily chuckled at that. “What can I say except you're welcome?”

Widow pulled back and stood, turning to look at Mercy, who was gripping her staff uncertainly, shifting in place. She locked eyes with the doctor, gold staring into blue. “Leave. You are free to go.” Mercy blinked. “I - what?” She asked, clutching her staff closer to her. Widow tsked, annoyed. “We will not pursue you. Leave. Go to your lover, hold her, tell her everything will be alright. But know that if I ever see you with Overwatch again, what I told you before was not mere threats. If you take their side after all I have told you, she will die by your hand.” She didn't bother to watch Mercy run headlong away, instead turning her gaze back down to Emily. The doctor wouldn't be a problem anymore. When presented with the choice between love and duty, she had chosen love.

It had been the right choice.

Widow extended her hand to Emily, who took it and let herself be pulled upwards. Widow waited a moment for the redhead to steady herself, and then threw her arms around Emily's shoulders, holding her tight. “I thought I lost you, _mon cheríe._ ” She said softly. “So tonight I will punish you for scaring me, and reward you for coming back.”

Emily's smile bloomed at this, and she wrapped her arms tight around Widow’s waist, resting her head on her love’s shoulder. “I can't wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This journey is at an end.  
> Beth and I thank you kindly for travelling with us, and to say that this is by no means the end of the entire story.
> 
> Widow and her Shield will return, at some other time. But there are other stories to tell, and time is fleeting for all of us.
> 
> So, dear readers, if you, like us, have more than a passing interest Emily, and the possibilities she holds, we would like to direct you to the fantastic story "The Armourer and the Living Weapon" (found at https://archiveofourown.org/works/12703794/chapters/28968903) by the fabulous solarbird.
> 
> In addition, there has been a wonderful piece of artwork drawn of Emily and Widow by the talented Kitsune on Deviantart. This link will take you to Tumblr where it can be viewed on Beth's blog.
> 
> http://shizurutokiha.tumblr.com/post/167388254473/so-again-with-another-commission-this-time-it
> 
> Thank you for reading, and good night.
> 
> Oh, and remember....time waits for no one.
> 
> \- Multikicker

**Author's Note:**

> "If once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny, consume you it will."  
> \- Master Yoda
> 
> I hope that this and the other chapters prove engaging to all of you, and, as always, comments and criticisms are welcome and encouraged.
> 
> 'Til next time, then, this is Multikicker signing off.


End file.
